


5 senses, or an ode to Patrick's thighs

by Poutini



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Including But Not Limited To - Freeform, Intercrural Sex, M/M, so many things you can do to thighs, thighs thighs and more thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini
Summary: Each chapter will focus on a particular sense.Chapter 1 stands alone, but then Chapters 2 through 5 are sequential, and are set at Stevie's.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 188





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Olive31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olive31/gifts).



The first time David  _ sees _ Patrick’s thighs, it’s  _ more or less _ an accident. Or, so he’d claim. 

But  _ could he _ have avoided walking into the backroom as Patrick was changing into his running shorts on that early summer morning? Yes.  _ Did he? Obviously not. Did he later masturbate to the image of Patrick’s well defined quadriceps outlined over smooth, pale skin that was burned into his brain? _ Clearly. _ Did he spend an inordinate amount of time imagining those legs pulsing Patrick up and down, pistoning himself on David’s cock?  _ Well, he’s only human. _ _

__

The second time David sees Patrick’s thighs, it’s quite on purpose. Up close and personal. Or, _up_ against the exposed brick wall in the backroom, actually. Patrick’s jeans pooled around his ankles, his boxers tugged down mid calf. 

__

But it’s probably for the best that this isn’t the first time David has seen Patrick’s thighs, that he’s had time to process the wonder that is the deep V of the definition of his muscles over soft, spun gold body hair, before he’s down on his knees, officially allowed to  _ touch, smell _ ,  _ taste  _ with  his own moans of satisfaction on mute,  _ hearing _ the symphony of sounds escaping Patrick’s mouth above him. 

__


	2. Feel

David growls at the sight of Patrick outstretched out on Stevie’s bed, wearing nothing but a pair of navy fitted 3” inseam boxer briefs. He practically  _ prowls _ his way to the bed, his eyes dark, focused, his hands clenching with need.

David crawls onto the bed, never once breaking gaze with Patrick, who is holding his own with a wide caramel-coloured stare, and a smirk teasing at the corner of his lips. He knocks Patrick’s knees a little further apart, and settles between them. His palms trail up Patrick’s calves and over his knees, before his fingers splay, tracing the deep lines of muscles typically hidden by those tragic mid-range denim jeans. David slides his fingers up the hem of Patrick’s underwear, tracing higher and higher, feeling the soft body hair barely visible from even up close. His fingers flex and grip tight, holding Patrick in place when Patrick’s hips cant upward. 

“Patience,” he purrs, tipping forward and kissing the inside of Patrick’s left thigh. 

Deftly, he tugs the last remaining garment between his mouth and Patrick’s cock off, and tosses it onto the floor. Patrick’s erection juts proudly, the crown glistening slightly in the low light of the room. As tempting as it is to just fall forward and swallow him to the root, David wants to take his time. As his hands run up and down, mapping out every inch of Patrick’s thighs, his mouth plants soft kisses, or his teeth nip lightly, leaving small marks on Patrick’s pale skin. His tongue traces up Patrick’s right hip crease, carefully dodging when Patrick’s pelvis thrusts involuntarily upward, his cock like a heat seeking missile. His tongue finds the path down the left hip crease, where it continues to lavish attention on the inside of his leg, keeping above the knee. 

“David,” Patrick croaks hoarsely from the head of the bed. “I’m beginning to think you have a  _ thing _ for my thighs.”


	3. Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY ACTUAL BIRTHDAY OLIVE31! Thanks for the tumblr chats! It is a pleasure to have gotten to know you, and I hope you have had a spectacular day!
> 
> This chapter picks up where Chapter 2 left off.

David comes up for air. “Huh?”

“My thighs, David, you seem....obsessed.”

David presses his nose into Patrick’s thigh crease and inhales deeply. It smells faintly of Old Spice, and something else distinctly... _ Patrick. _

He traces a finger lightly over Patrick’s hole, which twitches with the touch. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, the last few syllables muffled as he burrows his face between Patrick’s legs, allowing himself to luxuriate in the scent, but making a mental note to recommend a transition to a better body wash in the morning. 


	4. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting increasingly smutty, folks.
> 
> This one picks up where Chapter 3 left off.

David wraps one hand around the base of Patrick’s erection and starts stroking lightly. The fingers of his free hand dance back down Patrick’s perineum, this time well-lubed. 

He kisses Patrick’s hip bone, and drags his tongue up his thigh crease. Patrick’s body hair is sparse but it still tickles David’s tongue. David thinks he tastes a little salty from the exertion of the last 15 minutes, and just to confirm he licks up from the inside of Patrick’s other thigh, swirling over his balls. Mmhmm. 

David’s index finger applies pressure against the rim of Patrick’s asshole. “Is this ok?” he asks, slowly his hand on Patrick’s cock to allow for a coherent response. 

Patrick writhes, pushing against David’s finger, pushing up against his hand. “Yessss,” he slurs, overcome with want.

Stroking resumed, the tip of David’s digit slides in past the rim. He feels it bump up against the next ring of muscle. He brushes the pad of his finger against it, feather light, waiting for Patrick’s body to respond and relax. It doesn’t take long before David feels the tissue let go and his finger slides all the way in, right to the knuckle. Patrick lets out a groan above him that David wishes he could record and play over and over and over. Wake up to it. Remix it with soft jazz and play it in the store. Get the visual soundwave tattooed onto his skin.

He slides just the one finger in and out a few times before removing it and lining up two together. Patrick is taking this so well, and he tells him so, taking a moment to taste the flushed skin on his inner thighs. Really, David would love nothing more than to swallow Patrick down to the root and use his tongue to make him come, but it’s a bit too much to coordinate with both his hands otherwise occupied. 

Two fingers slip inside easily, and David moves them together, exploring, searching. He finds Patrick’s prostate and brushes it lightly, knowing it’s a bit of an odd sensation when it’s new, or unexpected. He hears Patrick gasp above him. “Yeah?” David asks breathlessly.

He can feel Patrick’s enthusiastic nod ripple down his body. “Oh my god, David, what was - “

David does it again. A little more pressure, but still just a few quick passes over the sensitive bundle of tissue. Patrick’s breath is coming in gasps and pants and David tightens his grip on his cock and the speed of his strokes as he fucks Patrick in earnest with his fingers. He can tell Patrick is close as the volume of his moans increase and the muscle fibres in his legs and abdomen twitch and contract. 

With a shout, Patrick comes over David’s fist, spurting down onto his own stomach and upper legs. David gentles him through it, withdrawing his fingers and releasing his softening cock onto his stomach. He presses himself up with his cleaner hand, unable to resist tasting the final mix of sweat and come on Patrick’s thighs before heading to the bathroom to tidy up. 


	5. Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up where Chapter 4 left off.

It doesn’t take long for Patrick’s dick to show interest in a second round. 

He presses his ass back against David’s pelvis, and David can’t help but grind against him. 

David snakes his arm around Patrick’s waist and wraps it around Patrick’s growing erection. He strokes it lazily. 

“What do you want, honey?” he murmurs against the nape of Patrick’s neck. He tightens his grip on Patrick’s cock, now fully engorged. Patrick lets out a loud groan, and David chuckles. 

“Words, Patrick.”

“God, David. You’re so - “

“So what?”

Patrick wiggles his ass against David’s now hardened cock. It’s still a little slick with lube, and the sensation makes David’s hips cant forward. “I want it all, David. God.”

David nips at the shell of Patrick’s ear. “Me too, honey.”

Separating their bodies slightly, David dips his hand down and feathers his fingers up between Patrick’s cheeks. “I have an idea,” he whispers, drawing up and down across Patrick’s hole, pressing kisses to the flushed skin on Patrick’s neck. 

“Yeah?” Patrick asks breathlessly, desperately.

“Mmhmm. Stay here.”

David rolls over and grabs the lube. He curls up back behind Patrick and pours a generous amount on the palm of his hand, sliding it between Patrick’s thighs and up against his perineum before it can spill all over the sheets. 

The same hand then works its way back around, encircling Patrick’s rock hard erection. 

“Hold on,” David growls, slipping his cock between Patrick’s thighs. The slide is delicious. The friction from that first push makes him moan and crash his forehead between Patrick’s shoulder blades. 

It takes a few thrusts before David establishes a comfortable rhythm, gliding between Patrick’s thighs. 

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of pornographic slapping of skin, David’s moans, and a litany of filth spewing from Patrick’s mouth as he cries out for David to fuck him harder. 

David can’t help but oblige. _Those thighs. Fucking those fucking thighs._

He loses himself in the sound of his body meeting Patrick’s over and over and over, and it doesn’t take long before Patrick lets out a loud groan and a shudder and comes all over David’s fist. David follows him over the edge, his body stilling, then jerking through aftershocks. 

Now that he  _ knows _ what’s under those jeans, now that he’s run his hands up and down the soft pale skin, marked those thighs up with nips and soothed them with licks, buried his nose and inhaled deeply the scent mostly Patrick but a little Shoppers Drug Mart, how will he ever be able to focus on work again? These thighs should come with a warning, danger pay maybe. 

“Really, David? Danger pay?” Patrick chuckles. 

Whoops. David didn’t realize he was saying those things out loud. Oh well. 

He’s sure that sonnets had been written about those thighs. Perhaps a short film, or novella, to be screened at TIFF. Cannes, even. 

David’s on a roll, barely noticing when Patrick rolls over to face him. 

Is a thigh model a thing? Because it should be. Start small, start local - bus benches, Brebner’s flyers. No one else can touch, but damn these thighs need to be appreciated. Admired. Taken out and parade - 

Patrick cuts him off with a kiss. “Okay, David. I love your ode to my thighs, but we’re getting pretty sticky here.”

He scoots backwards and off the bed, moving towards the washroom, but he can tell David is watching him. Sure enough, when he turns around David is focused. On his thighs. 

“David!” he chides. 

David huffs out a sigh, and finally follows those thighs, er Patrick, to the bathroom. 


End file.
